Superior
by BamaGirl03
Summary: Frieza has a dream-to be the most superior warrior in the entire universe. In order to achieve his goals he hops from planet to planet, taking the best of each species and working their DNA into his own. But complications arise when his two Saiyan prisoners combine their strength with the cunning of his newest human captives. Bulma/Vegeta Kakarott/Chichi
1. Author's Note

**Superior**

By BamaGirl03

Disclaimer—I do not own Dragonball Z or any of its characters.

Hello all.

This is my first fic for Dragonball Z. I wanted to take a moment to let you all know that this fic is rated M for violence, sexual content and uncomfortable situations. I'll try to remember to include a not at the top of those chapters for you though so no one is taken off guard.

As far as updates go—I am not sure yet. This fic is already planned out so I know exactly what is going to happen, but I am pretty busy. I suppose it just depends on the reviews.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Bulma stuck her hand out of the passenger side window and rolled her fingers through the air. Her other hand sat in her lap clenching the material of her skirt. She wanted so badly to rip the scarf off of her head. The idea of the breeze whipping through her hair made her entire body hum, but she knew her father would never allow it. He could hardly stand that she'd rolled down the window-unwrapping the scarf would be pushing it.

"Now don't forget," he said, shifting his eyes from left to right. He hardly ever watched the road. Why should he? The car practically drove itself. The real danger, he would insist, was people. "Chichi is the only one to be trusted. As far as everyone else is concerned, you're a distant cousin."

"I know." She'd only been telling this lie her entire life. Why would she forget now?

He gave a wordless nod and took a sharp left into the cobblestone drive of West City Sanitarium. The building towered over them, nineteen floors of stone and mortar topped off with a tin roof. The grounds consisted of one endless garden that was worked by the patients themselves. The staff considered the labor to be a type of therapy. In some cases this was true enough, but Bulma couldn't help but have her doubts whenever she spied some of the older patients slaving away under the afternoon sun with sweat rolling down their back and dirt clogging their nails while the orderlies watched from the shade. Chichi had even told her before of how their skin would burn and blister from exposure and yet very few on staff cared at all.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Brief," Townsend, the gate guard smiled as her father slowed to a stop. "Come to visit Bunny?"

Bulma rolled her eyes behind her giant red-rimmed sunglasses. Who else would they be visiting?

"That's right," her father said, handing over his ID.

Townsend didn't even look at it before issuing their visitors badges. "Good to see you again, Marge," he said to Bulma. "Mighty good of you to come all this way to visit your cousin every year."

Marge. That was the alias her father had given her the very first time he brought Bulma to the Sanitarium. After so many negative rumors and speculations surrounding her birth, her father decided it would be easier to not have a daughter at all. So he announced a tragic accident in which Bulma Brief was killed when she was three years old. The rumors died with her. In the meantime, Bulma was actually alive and well and kept hidden away within the vast halls of Capsule Corporation. A grand total of seven people knew the truth of her existence, and they were to take it to the grave.

She eyed Townsend speculatively. He wore a broad smile, but it was tight. His eyes held a hint of something in them—as if he were looking at something repulsive—and his posture was unnaturally straight. She knew he despised seeing her. All the employees did. Whenever she showed up, the patients would go berserk, causing a long night for the entire staff.

He held that tight smile for a moment longer with his hands hovering over the control panel in the guard shack. After a moment's hesitation he pushed the button to open the gates. Dr. Brief gave him a curt nod and drove through. He circled the parking lot once, then settled into a spot halfway down the front row.

Bulma checked herself over in the mirror, fussing with any loose strands of blue that may have slipped free and shoving them back under the scarf, which was the exact same shade of blue as her unusual hair. Then she straightened her sunglasses, ensuring her silver irises remained hidden.

Her father watched with a frown. "I don't know why you insist on doing this every year."

Those words would have stung once, but Bulma had years of practice to get past them. "It's my birthday," she said, fussing with her skirt. "I should get to see my mother on my birthday."

"Yes well," he sighed and got out of the car, mumbling under his breath.

"You get to see her every week," she pointed out, following him up the path to the entrance.

Ahead of them, two orderlies struggled to contain a tiny young man with messy brown hair. His wild eyes were locked on Bulma and he screamed as if he were seeing death itself approach. Knobby knees and elbows were flying and connecting with the orderlies, who watched Bulma with a much different expression on their faces—one of loathing.

Her father smiled uncomfortably and hurried her along. "That may be true, but I don't cause such an uproar among the inhabitants. You terrify these poor people."

It was true. As soon as they walked through the front door they were met with bloodcurdling screams echoing from all over the building. Some were banging on the walls, some were running to their rooms and others were dissolving into fits where they stood.

Chichi stood in front of the Welcome Desk. Behind her sat the very disgruntled Nurse Marybeth.

"Back so soon, Marge?" Marybeth seethed. "Your visits are always such a… pleasure."

Bulma gave a vague nod and followed behind Chichi, who dutifully began leading them to her mother's room before Marybeth could start on one of her legendary tangents.

"Happy birthday," Chichi whispered just loud enough so Bulma could hear. "I made you a cake. I'll bring it by tonight." Then she winked and it felt to Bulma as if her heart was trying to rip its way free from her body. The last time Chichi winked at her like that she snuck Bulma out of Capsule Corp for a much needed night out. It had been the first and last time she had ever left without her father.

They rode the elevator in silence. When it came to a halt on the eleventh floor they got off, took a left and walked all the way to the end of the hall, stopping in front of room 1101.

The door stood open and Bunny Brief sat inside, perched in her rocking chair and scribbling away in her sketchbook. She didn't look up from her drawing when she said, "Why did you bring that _thing_ here?"

Dr. Brief cleared his throat, cast a weary look around and ushered them all inside the small room. The door clicked shut quietly behind them. As soon as the door shut all of his worries of being overheard fell away, and he adopted a more relaxed stance. "Bunny, dear, how are you feeling today?"

"ANSWER ME!" Bunny snapped, hurling her pencil at her husband. "How could you bring her here? You know I despise her," she seethed, turning her angry blue gaze to Bulma.

Bunny looked nothing like the nice photographs Dr. Brief kept around the house—the ones of a beautiful blonde with perfect curls and a face full of glowing life. The woman Bulma saw now—as she always saw in person—emanated pure hatred. Her face contorted with rage, her complexion was sallow and her hair hung like limp, frayed ribbons against her skull. "Mother… I—"

"Don't call me that."

Bulma swallowed the lump in her throat. "But—"

"I'M NOT YOUR MOTHER!" Bunny yelled, getting to her feet much faster than Bulma would have thought possible, and throwing her sketchbook. It connected with the side of Bulma's head and Bunny let out a peel of laughter. "Look at her. She's pathetic. You should have let me drown her when I had the chance," she said to Dr. Brief.

"Now, now Bunny," Dr. Brief began, and for a moment, Bulma actually thought he might defend her. "That would be a terrible waste. Capsule Corp has thrived since Bulma's been there."

"Oh I know," Bunny said with a roll of her eyes. "You insist on keeping that abomination around so that her ideas can keep you rich."

"That's enough," Chichi snapped. "Bunny, keep it up and I'll sedate you. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, both of you! It's Bulma's birthday for God's sake and all she wanted was to visit _you_," she said, jabbing a finger towards Bunny. "The least you could do is drop the attitude."

"Oh," Bunny began in a falsely sweet voice. "Oh is it your birthday, dear?"

Bulma and Chichi exchanged suspicious glances.

"Well, in that case," Bunny crossed the room and retrieved the sketchbook she had thrown. "I have a gift for you." She thumbed through the pages for a few minutes before finding the one she wanted. Then she ripped it out, signed the bottom of it with a flourish and held it out for Bulma. "A portrait of your daddy."

The creature on the page was not Dr. Brief. In fact, it wasn't human at all. It was tall with long green hair and grotesque features. Its nose was smashed into his face, his eyes were large, yellow orbs that bulged out of his head and his mouth was vaguely reptilian.

Dr. Brief scoffed. "Now Bunny, those are the sort of things that got you locked in here in the first place. Look at me," he grabbed her tiny shoulders and put his face an inch from hers. "Aliens are not real. They do not exist."

"Oh this is ridiculous," Chichi fumed. "C'mon Bulma, we're leaving. This happens every time. You come visit, she's a bitch, he's a douche and you leave feeling awful. Well, not this time! It's your eighteenth birthday and you're going to enjoy it!"

Before anyone had time to argue, Chichi grabbed Bulma by the wrist and hauled her out of the room, slamming the door behind them. She could hear Dr. Brief shouting after them, but didn't stop. Instead she went straight to the freight elevator, used the key issued to all the staff to call it, shoved Bulma and in and pushed the button to go to the ground floor.

"We're going out tonight," she said angrily. "And take those sunglasses off. We're inside for goodness sake."

Bulma winced. "But my eyes—"

"It's the twenty-first century! For all these people know you've dyed your hair and bought contacts," she said, pulling the shades from Bulma's face and yanking the scarf off of her head. "Your father ought to be ashamed for keeping you locked away all this time. But you're eighteen now. You're a legal adult. You can say whatever you want, go wherever you want and wear whatever you want. Anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves."

If it weren't for her being so afraid, Bulma may have smiled. Chichi had always been strong minded. That was how they came to meet in the first place. Daring Chichi—at a mere five years old—had climbed the fence of Capsule Corporation and marched right through the gardens to retrieve her escaped balloon. One of the guards tried to stop her, but she laid him out flat. Strength and skill were expected from the only child of the Ox King. That was the day she stumbled across Bulma, who—though she was only a year older—was working out some quantum physics problems.

Chichi didn't seem bothered by Bulma's blue hair and silver eyes. In fact, Bulma wondered if she noticed at all until one day months later when she commented, "I've never seen anyone with hair and eyes like yours," then prattled on about something else entirely.

"Where are we going?" Bulma asked as she was jostled back to the present by Chichi yanking her off of the elevator. Marybeth gaped at them from behind the desk and for the briefest of moments, Bulma thought of putting her scarf back on.

"Anywhere. Everywhere! I don't care."

They plowed through the staff entrance, past several startled patients and marched down the half mile trail that led to employee parking. Chichi grumbled incoherently the whole time. Bulma was able to catch her saying things like, "Of all the nerve," and "Keeping their own daughter locked away," and "Like to see them _try_."

She thought about getting angry herself. In fact she wanted to be angry with her parents. She'd seen the way the Ox King was with Chichi. It was hard to miss the gap between the way he parented and the way Dr. Brief did. Whereas Ox seemed to truly love and care for Chichi, Dr. Brief only loved and cared for Bulma's inventions. But she couldn't make herself be mad. She was outside. With no disguise. And she was sure she was about to have her best birthday yet.

As the gated employee parking came into view, she found herself walking faster and demanding, "Which car is yours?"

Chichi smiled, catching on to her friend's enthusiasm and said, "The red one of course. Want to race?"

"Heck no," Bulma said. "I'm in heels and you always win."

"That's true. I think we should go to the new themepa—HEY! That's cheating!" she shouted and took off after Bulma, who had ripped off her heels and made a mad dash for the car.

Excitement pushed Bulma forward, faster than she'd ever ran before. She knew that Chichi would catch up and surpass her easily, but she didn't care. The wind was in her hair, the sun was in her eyes and for the first time ever, she felt alive.

Her fingers had just brushed the door handle when she heard a loud thump and something hard slammed into her back, trapping her body against the car. The air rushed out of her lungs and for a few frightening seconds she wasn't able to pull more in. Hot tears welled in her eyes as she struggled and in her panic, she looked back to see what had happened.

The first thing she saw was Chichi, lying unconscious in the arms of the meanest looking creature she'd ever seen. He was a little taller that her and twice as wide with a pink complexion and spikes jutting out of his skin. His eyes were bright red and rimmed purple and the grin he wore spoke volumes of his intentions as he stared down and her only friend.

A low growl pulled her attention upwards, to the face of the creature pinning her to the car. As soon as she saw his face, any air she had managed to gulp down came spewing back out. It was him. The creature from her mother's drawing. Tall, with green hair and a smashed in face. He laughed and growled again and somewhere in the back of Bulma's mind she realized that he was not growling, but speaking. He used a strange, guttural language, but it was definitely some sort of dialect.

When she had no sort of response for him, he spoke again, louder this time, more forceful and wrapped his giant hands around her shoulder to give her a violent shake.

"I don't know what you're saying!" Bulma sobbed and returned her attention back to Chichi. "Put her down!" she screamed, trying to claw her way out of the green creatures grip. "Please, let her go!"

The green one smiled and said something to his companion. Then, to Bulma's horror, the pink creature began to glow, along with Chichi, and the pair of them vanished into thin air.

"No. NO! Chichi!" she screamed.

The last thing she felt before all went dark, was a large, green hand slamming down onto the back of her head.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**—I realize I forgot to mention it in the intro… but for those of you who haven't already caught on, this fic is EXTREMELY AU. Ages, dates and a few characteristics will be different. Hope everyone had a great holiday!

Chapter Two

Her back and hips throbbed. She must have been laying on the ground for a very long time. Part of Bulma's mind knew something was wrong, but she couldn't recall what brought on this terrible ache in the pit of her stomach. Whenever she tried to open her eyes her lids burned, as if someone had rubbed sand in them. She thought of rolling over, but she was so exhausted. The only thing she really wanted was to drift back into her uneasy slumber, but she was so uncomfortable.

"Bulma." Chichi's voice sounded muffled and faraway, as if she were trying to speak to her through water. "Bulma, you have to wake up!" Louder this time.

Her clouded mind began to clear. She could remember fuzzy outlines of her day; the drive to the sanitarium, her mother. As the memories became sharper she saw Chichi hauling her out of the elevators, recalled the thrill of letting her hair loose, and then panic. Panic from… what?

The image of the green-haired creature flashed in her head. Her eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright despite the protest from her bones.

She knew she'd never set a toe inside the room she found herself in, and yet there was something vaguely familiar about it. The walls and floor were the same shade of brilliant white, the lights overhead were a bright florescent. White counters and cabinets lined the walls with gleaming stainless steel handles, several floating objects hovered throughout the room—she flinched away from them because they held an eerie resemblance to gurneys—and as far as she could tell, there was only one door leading in and out of the room, but it didn't have a knob.

A splash of color caught her eye and she turned to find Chichi propping herself up against the back wall. Her wrists were bound to her ankles behind her back by some sort of strange, glowing rope—it looked to be some form of pure energy, like the ki Chichi had shown her before. But it would have taken extraordinary skill to manipulate ki like that. The most Chichi ever managed to do was to blow stuff up.

"What is this place?" Bulma asked, suppressing the shock she felt at the sound of her own raspy voice. Her throat was bone dry and she wondered again at how long she had been out.

Chichi shook her head. Her cheeks were pale, the tip of her nose was pink and her eyes were red. She'd been crying. When she turned to face her, Bulma noted that her left cheek was slightly swollen. Someone or something had hit her. "I'm so sorry Bulma. I should have never taken you out of the sanitarium."

"Is this a lab?" she asked, ignoring Chichi's apologies. That would certainly explain why the place looked sort of familiar.

"It's a ship," Chichi whispered. "A space ship. We were—they took us-we've left Earth."

Bulma's head spun so forcefully that she had to brace her hands against the floor to keep from falling over. "A ship? A _space_ ship?" She wanted to vomit. Not because she was in space—she was brilliant enough to recognize the possibilities of space travel long ago—but because of how it was she came to be in space. With that green haired monster. It would seem that her mother had been right all along.

"No," she said, shaking her head and holding back the swell of tears that threatened to spill over. "That can't be right. It just can't be true."

"I know what you're thinking," Chichi said with a sympathetic nod. "Your mom…" She trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. The look on Bulma's face had her wondering if she would be able to bear hearing it out loud. Because if she said it, then they would have to face the ugly truth—that Bulma, in some small part, was not human.

"What are those things?" Bulma asked, gesturing to the glowing rings that bound Chichi's arms and legs. She had a pretty good idea already, but she was desperate for a change of subject.

Chichi glanced back at them. "Ki. The giant pink guy put them on me when I tried to fight my way free from him. I'd say these guys are all extremely strong. I can certainly vouch for his right hook."

"Can you break them?" Bulma asked, still looking at the ki. She'd witnessed Chichi do so many extraordinary things in her life. It seemed unfathomable that Chichi—the strongest person she'd ever met—could be kept at bay by those little lights.

"I've been trying for hours. It's no good. All I'm doing is wasting my energy."

"Well. Maybe if you—"

Bulma's words were cut short by a loud swooshing noise. They looked towards the door and saw that it had slid open, into the walls like an electronic pocket door. The giant, spiked, pink man stood there with his hands planted firmly on his hips. His purple lips were pulled down at the corners, making the most menacing frown Bulma had ever seen, and his eyes were focused right on her.

When he opened his mouth to speak, he spoke in a different language—not one from Earth… not even the same growling language that the green-haired man used. This one was more rapid, and yet completely fluid. Was he bilingual? How had he understood the other creature before if they spoke different languages?

The door swished closed behind him as he stepped into the room, his beady glare still fixed pointedly on Bulma.

She heard Chichi struggling with her bonds again as the creature stepped towards her.

"Stay away from her!" Chichi yelled.

The creature ignored her and fished out a small, pen-like object from his pocket. Bulma eyed it warily and noticed the tip of the pen had a small blue chip on it with claw-like hooks. All together it was a little smaller than a dime.

"What is that?" Bulma asked as the creature continued to advance on her. When his only response was a wicked smirk, she shuffled backwards, trying to get as far away from him as she could manage. But despite his enormous size, the man-creature moved quickly—far quicker than she would have thought possible. He nearly disappeared with his movements, and suddenly he was standing right over her.

He yelled something at her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanked her to her feet and slammed her so that she was bent over one of the floating gurneys. He held her in place by pushing his weight on top of her, but that didn't stop Bulma from trying to squirm out of his grasp.

"LET GO!" she screamed. More tears pooled in her eyes at finding herself in such a compromising position. "LET GO! GET OFF OF ME!" Her arms swung wildly, trying with all their might to land a solid punch on the creature. One of her elbows connected with his head, but she did more damage to herself than to him as it was impaled on one of the small spikes on his forehead.

The creature laughed maniacally and wrapped the thick fingers of one hand around her throat. They completely encircled it easily and he pulled her head up, then slammed it back to the table, causing her vision to blur in and out of focus. Her consciousness was slipping away from her and she had to fight to hang on. Through her struggle she felt his fingers scrape against her neck, pulling the long ropes of her hair off to one side.

"Stop…" she said, her voice broke—from her losing battle to stay awake or from the tears, she couldn't tell. "What are you…"

The cold tip of the pen pressed against the exposed flesh underneath and behind her left ear. She heard him click the end, and then it felt as if her entire head had been submerged into a vat of acid. Liquid fire barreled through the crevices and canals of her brain, searing a path through her frontal lobe, around the sides and finally resting to a dull flame in the back of her skull. She screamed out and bucked so wildly that for a moment the creature—that horribly strong creature—actually lost his grip on her, but he regained it easily enough and pinned her back into submission as the flames in her brain seared on and finally died down.

When he spoke again, she could still hear the strange language leave his lips, but somehow she now understood the words.

"Quit your blubbering!" he shouted.

It was only then that Bulma realized she was still crying out at the top of her lungs. She quieted immediately, transfixed on this new development. "I—I… how can I understand you now?"

He held up the pen, which no longer held the chip on the end.

Bulma's fingers searched the area behind her ear. There, imbedded into the skin and stapled straight through her skull, was the chip. The creature turned his head slightly to show her that he had a chip of his own. "Does this…" she began, and paused as she saw his chip light up blue with every word she spoke. "It's a translator?"

He grinned. "It's similar to your Rosetta Stone, but far more advanced. It can break down any language in the universe and translate it so that you can understand. It's necessary in our line of work."

"And… who exactly are you? What do you want with us?"

He crossed over to Chichi, who had been watching their exchange intently. When he reached down to grab her, she didn't fight at all. Having heard Bulma, she understood what the chip was meant for and allowed him to stamp hers into place without resistance. She winced, but didn't cry out as Bulma had.

Once the fire had died down for Chichi, she yanked her head up and said, "Who the hell are you!? You've got some nerve bringing us here!"

"My name is Dodoria. And you had better watch your mouth, little girl. Unlike your friend here, you're completely expendable."

"Expendable?!" Bulma and Chichi chorused.

"Most definitely," Dodoria grinned. "Follow me."

"Easier said than done," Chichi frowned and motioned to the ki bonds.

"Oh yes, I forgot," Dodoria shrugged, and with a wave of his hand, the bonds vanished.

Bulma and Chichi both stared as the energy dissipated into thin air.

Chichi glanced fleetingly to Bulma, trying to communicate through her eyes that this man was not one to be underestimated. Bulma gave a small nod of understanding.

"Where are we going?" Chichi asked.

Dodoria was already standing at the door. He pulled a badge out from under his armor. It hung around his neck from a lanyard along with another necklace—one with a large amulet on the end of it made up of a red stone with a golden symbol fused into its center. It looked like a capitol 'V' inside of a broad curved line with two shorter lines between them and an arrow pointing skyward out of the upper 'V'.

He swiped his badge through the slot to the right of the door and it swooshed open. After tucking away the badge and the amulet, he said, "We're going to meet the boss."

The girls exchanged wary glances. What choice did they have? Dodoria had made it blatantly obvious that he was stronger than them, and now they realized that he wasn't even the head honcho. It was safest for them to do as he said, and pray that their situation wouldn't get any worse.

They followed him down the curving corridor of the ship to a set of the strangest elevators Bulma had ever seen. They looked like clear tubes with a white glow to them. They were large enough to fit four to five people comfortably, but with Dodoria it was a struggle to squeeze all three of them inside. There were no buttons to choose from, instead, Dordoria said, "Lord Frieza." The ground fell away from them and the trio found themselves moving upward by some sort of invisible pull.

Bulma expected to rise one floor, maybe two, but instead they rose fifteen floors. "Just how big is this ship?" she gaped. Under her terror, she couldn't help but to be fascinated by the advanced technology it possessed.

"Lord Frieza requires the finest equipment. This ship is the fastest and most powerful in the universe. Obviously. After all, it was only yesterday that we were outside of the Earth's orbit. Now we're somewhere between the third and fourth quadrant."

"What?!" Bulma yelped. "But—that's insane! Why in the world would anyone ever need to move that fast? The third quadrant is trillions of light years away from Earth!"

"Lord Frieza has his reasons. Here we are." He stopped at the entrance to a large room. The walls surrounding the place were made up of thick glass, allowing passersby to see what was going on inside. It appeared to be some sort of control room. Panels of gears, knobs and glowing buttons lined three of the four walls. In the center stood a lifted platform that allowed for a single chair. In that chair sat another alien—smaller by far than Dodoria and the green haired creature from earlier, but easily ten times as frightening. He had a lizard-like appearance with sleek white skin, broken up by bits of hardened purple.

"Is that him? Frieza?"

"_Lord_ Frieza," Dodoria corrected. "Yes. That's him." He swiped his badge again and shoved Bulma inside."

"Ahh, awake at last I see," Frieza said with a cruel smile. His language was different yet again, more of a cool hiss than actual dialect, but the chip translated it perfectly. His red eyes scanned Chichi momentarily before returning to Bulma. "I see your friend obtained a little damage," he said, nodding to her swollen cheek. "I trust you, Bulma, are still in perfect condition. I did, after all, issue specific orders that you were not to be harmed."

She thought about tattling on the green-haired guy for knocking her out, but even she could sense the swells of power rolling off of Frieza and she just couldn't bring herself to be responsible for what he might do if she revealed that incident to him. "I'm fine."

"Very good, then we can put you to work straight away."

"To… work?" Bulma asked.

"Yes," Frieza said nonchalantly. "I've been looking for you for a very long time. I'd actually given up hope. It was only by chance that we found you at all."

"Why were you looking for me?"

Frieza's tail lashed out, slamming to the ground at Bulma's feet and leaving the tile broken beneath it. She tried to scrambled backwards, but only managed to bump into Dodoria's bulging form. "I don't like to be questioned young lady, but seeing as you don't know any better… I'll let it slide this once. As for the reason I've been looking for you—well… that's quite simple. You belong to me. I had you created."

"What?!" Bulma and Chichi gasped.

Frieza narrowed his eyes at them and floated gracefully down from his chair. Without so much as a single word, he crossed the room to Chichi, raised his hand, and swung so hard that it became a blur as he connected with the side of her face. She was sent flying into the far wall so hard that the beams bent beneath the force of the impact.

"Chichi!" Bulma screamed. She made to go to her, but Dodoria clamped one hand down on her shoulder, preventing her from moving an inch.

"I warned you, didn't I?" Frieza said softly. "I warned you not to question me."

Bulma stared after Chichi. She looked to be in rough shape—her right arm was definitely broken—but at least she was conscious.

"Now, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted. I had you created. You and seven others from planet Earth. You see, my former head scientist informed me that a human's DNA was very basic, among the most absorbent in the universe. We needed to implant an alien strand, the strand of the Netaru. The Netaru died off long ago, but they were renowned for their brilliance. They had the ability to break down and reverse engineer anything. They were grand inventors. I had a great use for their talents, but they were stubborn. They thought it would be better to destroy themselves than to join me. They detonated their entire planet, killing the lot of them—every man, woman and child—but we were able to secure a few strands of their precious DNA from the wreckage, and that was all we needed.

"Of Course, the most logical step was to try to fuse their DNA with my own. If anyone in the universe should be gifted with such knowledge, it should be me. That is my mission after all—to become a superior being. I've already got the strength and the charisma, I'm already so much better than every other pathetic species out there… but I am, sadly, not perfect. There are other traits among the many species I've encountered—desirable traits that could be turned against me one day. I need to possess them—ALL OF THEM!"

Bulma stared as a maniacal glow filled Frieza's eyes. He wanted to be the perfect being. A being so powerful that no one could stand a chance against him… but what did this have to do with her—she was no warrior. She had nothing of value to offer him.

As if he read her mind, he continued. "Unfortunately, every Head of Science I've had so far has let me down. They've had minimal success in some areas—very minimal. For example, I've been able to undergo several transformations to give me greater strength, but what use is that to me? I'm already the strongest being in the universe. Now I require other traits. That's where you come in, my dear.

"You see, they were unable to fuse the Netaru DNA with my own, so we made a side trip to earth and found eight expecting human females. Netaru DNA was implanted into you while you were still in utero. However, I was further disappointed to learn that the human hosts were rejecting the DNA. Four of the infants died before birth and three died a few months after they were born. All of my hopes rested with you. Those foolish scientist had used all of the Netaru DNA in this project and left none behind in case of failure! So it was all or nothing as far as you were concerned. And then… you were gone. That idiot father of yours announced your death when you were a toddler. I was most dissatisfied with the news. I punished the entire science department and, naturally, disposed of the higher ranking officers. I simply knew that if anyone had a chance of merging DNA with my own, it would be one of the Netaru. And suddenly it seemed that they were all gone.

"I thought of destroying your planet as well, but decided against it. I knew how useful it would be to have the human species around—with their basic, absorbent DNA. I thought there may be a possibility of running into another race we would need to reproduce. And I was right. On the planet Yardrat we found the infamous Space Walker—a being that can dematerialize and travel faster than the speed of light to any location in any universe and rematerialize there. This being can adapt to any atmosphere, any gravity level. There is only one in existence at any given time… and I have found him. Though, keeping him from using his gift to escape was quite tricky, but my men were able to whip something up to keep him in place.

"However, when they tried to fuse his DNA with mine—they failed. That's when I remembered about Earth… and all of that absorbent DNA. Perhaps if we could create another Space Walker, it would be easier to introduce that DNA into my own. But when we arrived, our scanner picked up a most unexpected hit—it would seem that there was a living Netaru on Earth…. You."

"My men did a little research before we moved in. Imagine—the secret daughter of a great inventor… a man well known for creating such things that are far beyond the scope of human understanding. But we all know it isn't true, don't we. We all know that that foolish human wouldn't know a great invention if it landed in his lap! It was you, wasn't it? You were the brilliance behind… what was it called?.. oh yes… Capsule Corporation."

Bulma stood frozen in place. In five minutes this tyrant had explained more about her background that she could have ever imagined. All of the pieces were beginning to click into place. The green-haired creature from her mother's sketchbook, he wasn't her father… he was simply the man sent to introduce the Netaru DNA into her. Her mother must have not realized she was pregnant at the time. It all made sense. The baby would have to be in the beginning stages of development to absorb alien DNA. Frieza's men must not have taken that into account if she was the only one to survive. This meant that Dr. Brief truly was her father.

"Now, since we finally have secured an actual scientist, you will work under me. You will assist me in realizing my dream of supremacy—starting with the Space Walker."

She couldn't. She just couldn't help such a tyrant obtain that level of power. If he were to gain that much power, there was no telling what nightmarish things he would do. The man was clearly the most evil thing she'd ever set her eyes on. "And if I refuse?"

Frieza frowned. Then, much too fast to see, he disappeared and reappeared next to Chichi. In an instant his pronged foot slammed down on her broken arm and Bulma watched helplessly as her only friend screamed in agony.

"REFUSE ME AND I WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU HAVE EVER CARED ABOUT! STARTING WITH THIS IDIOT GIRL!" His foot came down again and a sickening crunch echoed throughout the control room as more of Chichi's bones snapped under his weight. "I will make you watch as I bring her to the brink of death, and then I will let my men use her in a pool of her own blood until there is nothing left!"

"NO!" Bulma screamed. "Please don't!" But it was too late, Frieza's foot came down a third and final time and this time, the pain was too great for Chichi to bear. Her eyes widened for one brief moment before going fuzzy and she lost consciousness.

"Please!" Bulma pleaded. "Please leave her alone. I'll do what you want just please don't hurt her!"

"Very good," Frieza said with a pleased grin. The expression on his face didn't go with his cruelty at all. "I knew you'd come around. And just in case you decide that your friend's life isn't enough to motivate you, I think I should let you know—I can destroy that pathetic planet of yours in the blink of an eye. Fail me, and you will have a front row seat to the Earth's destruction."

Bulma's heart sank. "I'll do it. I'll help you."

"Good girl. Dodoria… take these two to the lab. Show dear Bulma to the Space Walker. She'll need to get started right away. As for you, my dear Netaru… if I don't see any progress in one month, your little friend will lose the use of her other arm."

* * *

Vegeta sat on one of the hovering gurneys in the med bay. His right arm burned from where Zarbon had twisted it behind his back. He was sure most of the muscles were torn. He tried to rotate his shoulder to check, and the pain that followed confirmed his theory.

Frieza—in his infinite cruelty—had decided that Vegeta and Kakarot would be used in training exercises for his men. It wasn't enough that that lizard looking freak destroyed their planet. It wasn't enough that he sought to have the entire race instinct… he had to make a mockery of them while he was at it. But the joke was on him—Frieza didn't realize that a Saiyan's power increased with every fight. If the little shit would give them enough time to heal, he and Kakarot would wipe that smirk right off of his face!

But that didn't seem likely—not at this rate. They were both taken out of their holding cells every other day. Frieza wasn't foolish enough to have them both out at the same time, so they alternated. And every other day they obtained more and more injuries and received no recovery time. They'd be dead before they ever got anywhere close to the strength needed to defeat Frieza.

He grimaced when one of Frieza's doctors came over and, without warning, began inspecting his arm—lifting and turning it painfully for the inspection.

"Looks like Zarbon really did a number on you today, huh Vegeta?" The creature was short and green with a beaklike snout and four arms. His language was very broken up with a lot of tongue clucking.

"And what the hell do you propose to do about it? You and these hacks are the most pathetic excuses for a medical staff I've ever seen! Just give me my sling and get the fuck out of my face."

"And this is Vegeta," Dodoria said with a booming laugh from behind him.

Vegeta turned to scowl at him and saw, with a jolt, two females who could have easily passed as Saiyans. The one Dodoria had slung over his shoulder was particularly Saiyan-like with her jet black hair and toned body. The other one had long blue hair and silver eyes. Her skin was paler than he'd ever seen on his planet, but she still could have walked among his people with ease.

He narrowed his eyes at her, taking in her unusual coloring. This must be the scientist he'd heard the lab workers talking about. The Netaru Frieza was bringing in to realize his sadistic dreams.

"A sling won't do," the blue-haired woman said, taking a tentative step towards him. "You're going to need a lot more attention than that."

She approached him without fear and slid her gentle fingers up his arm. Her touch was much more soothing that the other creature's had been. It would seem that she had some actual medical knowledge.

"Does it hurt when I press here?" she asked, pushing slightly between his bicep and shoulder.

Vegeta scoffed. "I image our ideas of pain differ greatly. But it doesn't feel good if that's what you're getting at."

"Well… It looks like you've torn your rotator cuff. Possibly your bicep as well. You'll have to have an MRI done to be positive."

"A what?" the beak-faced doctor asked.

Bulma blinked. "An MRI… you know… to see his muscles and ligaments."

"We don't have anything like that here."

"What?" she blanched. "Then what equipment do you use? How do you treat your patients?"

Vegeta smirked and played off of his words from earlier. "I imagine your idea of treatment differs greatly from his."

"You have got to be kidding!" Bulma snapped. "How do you expect me to treat Chichi's arm if I don't even have access to the proper equipment?!"

Dodoria scowled. "You're not here to play doctor. You're here to study and merge DNA."

"Are you serious?! You don't even have basic equipment here! How do you expect me to do anything when you don't have the required materials!? It's no wonder none of the other scientist could get the job done."

Dodoria considered her for moment, then dropped Chichi's unconscious form onto one of the gurneys. "Very well. Make a list. I'll inform Lord Frieza of your requirements and see if he will allow for us to acquire the needed materials."

Vegeta sat stunned. If anyone else had spoken to one of Frieza's henchmen like that, they'd be laid up on the gurney next to him. This woman must be of extreme value to Frieza…. And that made her a danger to everyone else.

**Author's Note—**Alright.. That's Chapter Two. Thanks to everyone who read and review and followed or favorited this story! Also, just to clarify, I know on the show that all the Yardrats could use instant transmission, but for the sake of this fic—only one being in the universe can do it.


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

For the second time that day, Chichi woke up in an unfamiliar room. Her eyes began to sting as soon as she'd opened them. _I will not cry_, she chanted to herself. _I will not cry_. But despite her efforts to hold them all back, one or two tears escaped and ran down her cheeks. She hated this! All of it! She wanted to stay strong for Bulma. Poor, sheltered Bulma who knew nothing of life except suffocating darkness. It destroyed her to realize that they could both die on this stupid ship and Bulma would have never known an ounce of love.

So much had changed in such a short span of time. Just yesterday she was brooding about Bulma's unfair treatment… now she would give anything to go back and keep herself from dragging Bulma out of the Sanitarium.

_They would have found her anyway_… a soft voice whispered in her mind. Chichi jolted and looked around. It wasn't uncommon for her to have such gloomy thoughts, but the fact of the matter was that the voice speaking in her mind now was not her own.

_Don't be afraid_, it continued. _This is the only way I can communicate. Over here… the next cell over._

This was when Chichi realized that she was in some sort of holding cell. There were no bars, just some kind of vented glass cube. The room she was in held several cubes—twenty at least—on either side of a long corridor that ran the length of the room. Between every other full-sized cub was a separate smaller cube… those looked to be lavatories.

_Only one of us can enter at a time_, the voice said again._ Frieza had it rigged that way because he didn't want to risk two prisoners being able to double team his guards. As if any of us could…_

"Get out of my head!" Chichi screamed, shoving the fingers of her good hand through her long, inky locks.

She looked to the right at the prisoner in the next cell. He was tall, by far the most human looking species she'd seen in this hellhole. But he was clearly something else. His jet black hair spiked up and out in every direction and he had a monkey-like tail. His arms and legs were long and protected by thick bands of muscle and the little bit of his chest she could see also had a thick layer of muscle. Random scars decorated his bronzed skin, most of them too deep to comprehend. He must have extraordinary strength to be able to tolerate such injuries.

When his cool gaze locked with hers, her knees trembled. She could actually feel his power. It rolled off of him in waves similar to the way Frieza's had. If this man couldn't escape, then what hope did she have?

He continued to stare at her expectantly. At a loss of anything to say, Chichi frowned and said again, more forcefully, "Stay out of my head."

The man crossed his cell and pushed a button to allow him access to the lavatory. Once inside, he stood directly in front of her and braced his massive hands on the cell wall separating them. "I'm not in your head."

The language he spoke was the perfect mixture of smooth and gravelly. His tone was soft, yet direct. Chichi realized immediately that this man was no push over.

One side of his mouth curved upwards and he continued, "If you're hearing voices, you probably have Tia to thank for that." He jutted his chin upward, indicating to the cell behind her.

She turned around and searched the opposite cell. It took her a minute before her eyes rested on the creature that must have been Tia, and only a split second for her heart to sink into the pit of her stomach.

Tia was a child.

No taller than three feet, with sparkling white skin, short, choppy hair the color of blood, eyes that were completely blue with no pupils or whites to them, and no mouth. All in all she looked somewhat humanoid in posture, but her fingers were abnormally long and her feet were webbed. On the sides of her neck, Chichi saw what were clearly two sets of gills and some sort of silver band was imbedded into the flesh across her forehead.

_I'm sorry to have frightened you, but, as you can see, I can't speak as you do_. She gestured one of her bony fingers to her face, indicating the absence of a mouth.

Chichi paled and looked more closely at the other cubes. All of them held some sort of creature. They stood as if on display in some sick, twisted museum. All except the one directly across from her and the one on the far end—those two were empty. She scanned back through the others—noticing a green skinned man with antennae, another type of humanoid who had three eyes and even one of the legendary Greys. She saw worm-like creatures, something that looked like a giant ladybug and another alien with a pinkish skin, a bulbous head and knobby limbs. She studied that one for a moment longer, zeroing in on the collar her wore around his neck. It had several lights and emitted shocks of electricity every now and then.

"Where's Bulma?" she asked, panic and bile rising in her throat.

"The blue haired female that came in with you?" The powerful man asked. "They only brought her in for a moment. Took her straight to the Yardrat," he gestured to the alien in the collar. "She took a blood sample from him and they walked her back out. I figured she was one of Frieza's employees from the way they kept their hands off of her."

"She does not work for Frieza!" Chichi snapped. "That monster threatened her into helping him! She doesn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice." It was so straightforward, as if he were talking to a toddler.

Chichi blanched. "Who are you, anyway?!"

"My name is Kakarot. I'm a Saiyan. And you are?"

How could he be so calm? She thought of snapping at him some more, but it was just so disturbing how he refused to raise his voice. She wanted someone to argue with! She wanted to vent her anger! And here was this Saiyan speaking to her as if they were taking a stroll through the park. If he was really as strong as she thought he was, why wasn't he trying to knock these cells down? Had he just given up? Lose hope completely? Well… that wasn't her style. She'd figure out a way to escape or she would die trying.

She turned away from him. "My name is Chichi. I'm a human." Then she dropped into her stance and began to concentrate her energy into her good hand.

_I wouldn't if I were you_, Tia's soft voice echoed across her mind. _The glass is indestructible. Your blast will just rebound back onto you._

"Are you serious?" Chichi gasped.

To her great annoyance, Kakarot began to laugh heartily. "I take it Tia told you about these cells?"

She growled under her breath. The pain in her arm reached new highs as her temper rose. What was she going to do now?

* * *

"Quit being so stubborn!" Dodoria bellowed.

Bulma stood rigid. The truth was, Dodoria scared the hell out of her, but it was all about principle at this point.

"I don't consider it stubbornness," she said calmly. "I told you I wasn't going to start on anything until you let me tend to Chichi and you tossed her in that cell anyway. Not gently either! You probably caused more damage to her arm than she already had.""

"And I told _you_ that you're not on the med staff! You're a different branch completely! You'll get to work on this DNA fusion now or so help me you'll be sorry!"

"What will you do?" she challenged. "Hit me? Knock me out? Kill me? You can't do any of those things because if you harm me, no one will be left to help your boss realize his twisted dream of perfection! Then where will you be? I'll tell you where! Up a creek! With Frieza breathing down your neck for killing his dream."

Vegeta sat stunned on the gurney. The beak-nosed doctor was still bandaging some of the deeper gashes on his back as Dodoria and Bulma went back and forth on the issue of the other female. It was simply amazing how much Bulma was getting away with. He'd witnessed Dodoria tear people apart for much less. The woman didn't appear to have any notable strength… in fact, as far as he could tell her power level was laughable. But did that really matter? It was her mind they wanted.

How much could she really accomplish though? She looked so young. All of the other scientist he's seen on board were ancient, crumpling masses of sagging skin. They had decades of knowledge under their belts and they all failed.

The door to the med bay slid open and Zarbon glided in. Each reaction to his appearance was different. Vegeta looked enraged, Bulma looked frightened and Dodoria looked relieved.

"What is all the fuss about? I can hear your bickering from the elevators." Zarbon asked, looking to each of them in turn. "You're not still griping about your beating, are you Vegeta?"

"It's this woman!" Dodoria bellowed. "She is the most disobedient wench I've ever encountered! She refuses to work until she sees that that other bitch is okay, despite the number of times I've told her she's not on the med staff!"

Zarbon rolled his eyes. "I'm disappointed in you, Dodoria. I can't believe you would allow one little girl to cause this much trouble. If she really wants to tend to her friend, let her. Let her join the med staff if that's what she desires. Heaven knows they could use someone with skill. Lord Frieza has given her a deadline. If she fails to meet it, that will be no one's fault but her own." Then he turned to Bulma. "Will that resolve this little fiasco?"

Bulma flinched away from his stare. She hadn't forgotten the last time they met. He may have lost his monster-like appearance, but this was the same man who brought her onto this ship in the first place… she just knew it.

Her eyes skimmed over to the small doctor treating Vegeta. He was so careless in his treatment. Vegeta's wounds would get infected for sure at this rate. And he was just one of the many prisoners she'd seen from downstairs. There was no telling how many of them were sick and injured as well. "Yes. I would like to join the med staff. But I want my own lab. I don't need any assistance from these guys. They clearly have no idea what they're doing. Once I patch Chichi up, she can assist me."

"Oh? Hear that, Doc?" Zarbon asked the beak-nosed doctor. "It would seem that you're of no further use to us."

And before Bulma could comprehend his meaning, Zarbon pointed a single finger at the doctor and shot a beam of light straight through his chest. The rest of the med staff watched on, stunned for the briefest of moments, before they broke out in a mad stampede towards the exit. But Zarbon and Dodoria were too quick for them. In a matter of seconds the room was filled with the dead bodies of the former staff.

"There," Zarbon grinned. "The lab is yours. I hope you're as skilled as you claim to be. And you'd better not let these second duties interfere with your mission. Or else the next heart I pierce will belong to that dear friend of yours."

Bulma stood paralyzed with terror. They had killed them… all of them… without so much as a second's hesitation. What kind of monsters was she dealing with?

As Zarbon and Dodoria compared kills, Bulma's knees began to quake beneath her and eventually gave out completely. "You… you killed them. How could you do that? They worked for you."

"You, yourself said that they were of little value," Zarbon grinned. "We try to stay up-to-date around here. Use this as a reminder if you decide you don't want to fulfill your duties. Now… you have a patient to tend to." He gestured to Vegeta, who sat unscathed on the gurney. He wore the same scowl he had before the death of the staff and looked completely unaffected and unimpressed by their outburst.

The door slid open again, and yet another alien entered. This one had bright orange skin and long white hair. His armor was the same as Dodoria's and Zarbon's but he had a different looking insignia on the breast plate. Bulma assumed he was lower ranking.

"Ah, Jeice. So glad you could join us," Zarbon grinned. "Bulma, this will be your guard. He'll make sure you stay on task and ensure none of the prisoners give you a hard time."

"I don't need him."

"Yes you do," the three henchmen chorused.

"Trust me, babe," Jeice said in his choppy language. "None of those prisoners are a fan of you. With Frieza in possession of a mind like yours, they'll try to take you out at the first chance they get. And you better believe that well over half of them are strong enough to do it."

Vegeta scowled at Jeice. He hated that that little freak could be so observant. He himself had planned on choking the life out of that blue-haired female as soon as the room was cleared. He wasn't sure whether or not the Bulma girl would be able to do what they wanted her to do, but their confidence in her had him on edge.

His gaze slid over to hers, and their eyes met—silver to black. That was when he knew she knew the truth behind Jeice's words. She knew that he _did_ want to kill her. He wanted to kill her more than he'd ever wanted anything else in his entire life.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N- This chapter seems a little choppy as far as POV goes, but there is a lot going on all at the same time that is pretty important to the story and I didn't know how else to write it out.

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

It was painfully clear to Bulma that Frieza and his goons had stolen every item of medical equipment they had. The lab had no rhyme or reason. Machines that should have been stationed close together were in separate rooms and then others that should have been moved farther apart were right next to each other. Some of the technology was impressively advanced, and others were straight out of the Stone Age. A lot of it was covered by a thick sheet of dust, which Bulma considered to be both unsanitary and a waste of a good machine. Then there was a large chunk of necessary equipment—like the MRI machine—that wasn't in the collection at all. They must have just grabbed what they thought looked important at the time.

"These guys are idiots," she whispered. She'd dug through the equipment seven times looking for something that could help treat Chichi's arm but there was nothing. Not even pain medication. She had high hopes that she wound have run across some fascinating alien medical technique—a one click fix… but it looked like Earth was leading the pack on that front.

Chichi cringed as Bulma turned her arm gingerly in her hands. "Yeah. But they're tough. There's a guy in the cell next to mine who is so strong he had the hair raising off of the back of my neck, but they managed to capture him."

"Vegeta?" Bulma guessed.

"No, his name is Kakarot. Who's Vegeta?"

That's right. Chichi wouldn't know Vegeta. He hadn't been downstairs since Bulma had been there. "The angry looking guy over there," she said, gesturing to the far side of the room where Jeice was overseeing the cleanup of the lab. Vegeta had been made to move the bodies with the help of another alien… a green one with a set of antennae, pointed ears and some kind of pink tubing on his arms, chest and legs. "I'm pretty sure he wants to kill me."

"What? Why?"

"You should have seen the look he gave me. He would rather see me die than see Frieza succeed. I'm not sure that he's wrong."

"He is wrong," Chichi insisted. "Besides, who says you're actually going to help Frieza? These people only think with their muscles. All we have to do is outsmart them. Seriously, if there is anyone on this ship who can bring him down, it's probably you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Bulma said in a flat tone. "You heard what Frieza said. If I don't help him he'll kill you… then he'll destroy our planet. Everyone would die, including your father. I can't be responsible for that. I… I just don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice," she said sternly, recalling the way Kakarot's words had shook her to the core when he said them. "Frieza is a killer, a power hungry tyrant. We can't help him, Bulma, we can't. Think about it. If you do this for him, he'll be much more powerful than he ever was, and from what Tia's told me, he destroys entire planets once he's stolen the traits he wants from them… he eliminates the competition as he goes. You'll be killing more people than you save if you help him."

"But I'll be saving you," Bulma whispered. Her throat had suddenly become very tight. "You're the only person that's ever shown me any kindness. No one on Earth has. Certainly no one here has. You're all I've got. No one else matters."

That was what Chichi was afraid of. How could Bulma—a girl who'd always been cut off from the world—ever be expected to care about it?

* * *

Piccolo scowled and kicked the lifeless form of another doctor into the pile. "So, that's her?" He'd been casting the blue haired female curious glances ever since he'd been brought to the lab for cleanup duty.

"That's the one," Vegeta nodded, adding three more bodies to the pile. He checked that Jeice wasn't listening (the little narcissist had been checking out his reflection in the stainless steel for hours) and added, "They all treat her differently. You should have seen the way she stood up to Dodoria. He didn't even raise a hand to her."

"That can only mean one thing."

"I know. This one might actually be able to do it."

They exchanged glances—serious, time stopping glances—then pushed more bodies into the pile. They both knew what was at stake. Just imaging Frieza rising to that level of power…. It was terrifying. And it was only fitting that the first project he wanted Bulma to work on was the Space Walker. Piccolo shuddered just imagining what the sadistic little shit would do if he could jump from place to place so quickly. He'd attack numerous planets simultaneously. He'd murder by the trillions. "We can't allow her to succeed."

Vegeta snuck another peek in her direction. "Agreed."

"This might be the only chance we get. We were fortunate when they assigned Jeice to guard her." (Jeice struck another pose, assessing his latest moves.) "I'll be able to kill her easily enough, but I need you to handle him. I hate to admit it, but even in your injured state you're a great deal stronger than me and he'll try to interfere when he sees what we're up to."

Vegeta rotated his shoulder. It hurt, bad, but he knew he could do this. All Piccolo needed was a few seconds. "He'll kill us when it's done."

"It'll be worth it."

* * *

"Do you think you can fix it?" Chichi asked, wincing as Bulma felt around her forearm.

"I don't know. There's so much damage." That was an understatement. She could actually feel hundreds of tiny shards of bone under Chichi's skin. In his temper tantrum Frieza destroyed the arm. She wouldn't have been surprised if a chunk of it had been ground into powder.

She furrowed her brow and studied Chichi's fingers next. They were swollen to the point that the skin was beginning to tear and all of them hung limply from her hand. Even with the proper equipment, Bulma had no idea how she was supposed to repair such a horrific injury.

"I may have to get creative," she admitted. "It's just that… this is so much. There are literally hundreds of pieces of broken bone in here. I may have to try to build a new skeletal structure for you."

"What!?" Chichi gasped. "A new arm? Out of what?"

"Metal. I don't know what that's going to do for your ki, though."

"You're telling me you have to hack off my arm and you're worried about my ki? Isn't there any other way? Can't we just put it in a cast or something?"

"I think you're underestimating the extent of this injury. It will take a miracle to make it whole again. Unless those doctors were hiding some sort of healing protein around here, it's going to have to come off," Bulma said, turning to pull up the screenshot of Chichi's X-ray. "I mean… you're arm looks like—"

"NOW!" Vegeta shouted.

Everything happened so fast. One minute Chichi was sitting next to Bulma, looking at the horrific black and white image of her broken arm and the next, something hit her hard in the stomach, sending her flying to the ground. Stars began to pop in her vision and her mind reeled as she tried to get past the pain.

Before she could even fathom what was going on, an earsplitting boom sounded from behind her and the whole ship began to shake, down to the last bolt. She turned to see Vegeta tackling Jeice. He never paused before his fist started pounding the egocentric guard… the head, the chest, the nose…

CRACK!

"AHHHH! You foolish monkey! You've broken my nose!" Jeice whaled. There was another boom and in the next instant, Vegeta was sent hurtling into the far wall, taking out several gurneys and machines as he went.

There were very few things that could have pulled Chichi's attention away from the fight… this was what she wanted after all, for someone—anyone—to stand up to these guys. She wanted the opportunity to escape! This was their chance. All they had to do was team up with these guys, and probably Kakarot too, and they just might make it. But Bulma's choked off sobs drew her away immediately.

She jerked her head around to check on her friend. Had she been hit too? No. It was worse. Much worse. "What are you doing?!" Chichi screeched.

The green alien had appeared out of nowhere and one of his hands was wrapped securely around Bulma's throat. Her feet were wheeling in midair two feet off of the ground, her face was turning a violent shade of red and she was trying desperately to claw her way out of his grasp.

"It's nothing personal," he said in his graveled tone. "We just can't allow Frieza to achieve any more power." Then he put the palm of his free hand directly in front of Bulma's face.

Chichi could feel his energy gathering before she saw the light from it. "NO!" she shouted, jumping to her feet. "DON'T!"

Either Jeice or Vegeta, she wasn't sure which, landed another ship-shaking blow, and for one small moment in time, the green alien lost his footing…. That was all Chichi needed. Fueled by adrenaline, she shot her free hand high over her head, swirled it in four giant circles, forcing her ki up and out while at the same time flattening it and serrating its edges. "DESTRUCTO…."

"PICCOLO! HURRY! DO IT NOW!" Vegeta shouted. Jeice pounced while he was distracted and landed a crushing blow to the side of his face. Vegeta sailed off of him and Jeice scurried to his feet.

"…DISK!" She put her whole body into throwing the blast towards Piccolo, ignoring the jolts of pain shooting up her other arm.

She was no fool. This alien was tough, and she knew that he'd easily be able to dodge her blast, but she had to try. Still, she wasn't expecting any assistance. Right as she threw hers, another bigger ki zoomed past, barely missing her ear by mere millimeters. The energy coming off of that thing was horrifying and she had no doubt that it would obliterate whoever it hit.

Vegeta stared in horror as Jeice's blast tore past Chichi and raced neck and neck with her strange disk towards Piccolo. The Namek would never have enough time to shoot Bulma before he was hit.

Instead, Piccolo did the next best thing… he dodged them… or at least he tried to. Both were moving at such a high rate of speed. Jeice's was clearly the stronger of the two, so he chose to duck out of its way, but that put him right in the path of the disk. He braced himself for the impact. It was an impressive attack, but her species was so fragile. Surely the damage would be minimal.

"DON'T TOUCH IT!" Vegeta screamed.

And right as it donned on Piccolo that he may have dodged the wrong blast, he was sliced in half.

* * *

Below, in the holding cells, the prisoners stood stunned.

"What's happening up there?" Kakarot asked. "Something's happened to Piccolo. I can't sense his energy anymore."

"Do you think they killed him?" another asked.

"No." It was Tien this time, the three eyed man. "He was among the most valuable of us, remember? Frieza wanted him to create a set of Dragonballs."

The Yardrat looked on in silence. He never spoke. More times than not he appeared to be lost in his own grief, sulking in the corner of his cell, constantly being shocked by the collar that prevented him from using his power to jump to another place. But Kakarot noticed that something about this incident had caught his attention.

"But… Kakarot's right," the burly alien on the end said. "Piccolo's life force has vanished… and… and… Vegeta's has weakened as well…"

Kakarot growled. It was one thing to destroy the Namek… it was something else entirely to mess with his prince. "Tia. Look through them. Tell us what's happened."

_Right_! It only took her moments to bounce through the crews mind and see through their eyes. The majority of them were racing around trying to find the source of the disruption. It wasn't until she found herself in the mind of Jeice that she saw what had happened. _Piccolo… he's been cut in half_, she told the others.

"What?" Tien gasped. "By who?"

Tia furrowed her brow and dug a little deeper through Jeice's memories. The whole scene began to rewind itself in slow motion. She saw Piccolo's body zoom back together. Saw him move, then saw the reason why.. two kis were flying through the air—the bigger one belonged to Jeice. It was of typical size and shape for him—large and rounded with a little too much oomph on it. He always did try to over-compensate. But it was the other one she was more concerned about. It was smaller, sleeker with sharpened edges. She heard Vegeta's warning and then, finally, she saw the source.

_Chichi_.

* * *

"Well… Lord Frieza's not going to like this," Jeice said, giving Piccolo's lower half a kick. "That prisoner was fairly important."

Vegeta peeled himself off of the floor. So many emotions battled for the limelight as he saw Piccolo lying dead on the ground—anger, frustration… but most of all, jealousy. The nightmare was over for the Namek. And even though his death came at the hands of a weak Earthling, he had to admit that her attack had caught him off guard as well. He hadn't sensed the dangers of it until the very last second.

"You! Where did you learn that move?" he demanded, his glare bored into Chichi.

"It's a little trick Krillin taught me," she mumbled. She was too stunned to grasp what had happened. That alien—the one Vegeta called Piccolo—had been a great deal stronger than her. It was never her intention to kill him. She'd been aiming for his arm. If Jeice wouldn't have fired an attack of his own, Piccolo would have never dodged! And he would have simply lost a limb instead of his life.

"What do you think, doc?" Jeice smirked. "Think he'll make it?"

"How can you joke about something like this?" Bulma demanded and scuttled over Chichi. "Are you alright?"

"I've never killed anyone," she sobbed. "I didn't want to kill him, I didn't think I could! I just meant to get him away from you!"

"Well, you killed him," Jeice sniggered. "You probably hammered the last nail in the coffin for Vegeta as well." He turned to face the Saiyan prince. "You should have known better than to try a stunt like that. Frieza will be very disappointed in you."

As if on cue, the lab doors blew open and the tyrant himself strolled in, flanked by Dodoria and Zarbon. His stare was cold and emotionless as he scanned the scene. First his eyes found Bulma and Chichi, then Jeice, lingered a moment longer on Vegeta, and finally fell upon the pieces of Piccolo.

His lips curled into a sneer. "Who is responsible for this?"

"Vegeta!" Jeice said with a sadistic grin.

Frieza was not amused. He pointed one of his black-nailed fingers right at Vegeta's heart. "Then… you die."

Bulma cringed. Did he really want to kill Vegeta now? She wasn't the biggest fan the plan he and Piccolo hatched, but it was bad enough having to see one guy die. She didn't know if she could handle watching Frieza slaughter someone. "No!" she screamed and scurried to her feet. Frieza's frown deepened when she placed herself in front of the Saiyan and opened her arms wide to shield him.

"Didn't I warn you…" he began.

The vein in his forehead was beginning to bulge. Bulma knew she had to think of something quick—some excuse for defying Frieza before he flew off the handle again and started hurting people. "Please… Lord Frieza," she stuttered. "It's just that… I've made an interesting discovery," she lied. "This man's DNA is… is … it's very valuable. I think it could hold the key to unlocking success for your… n-n-noble cause."

That did get Frieza's attention. So much in fact that he almost completely lowered his guard. His scowl was replaced by a triumphant smile. "Is that so? Well… that changes things. Zarbon… pluck out a few of his hairs before I blast him."

"No!" Bulma squeaked. "It… I'm… The cells have to be living cells in order to achieve optimum results. And I will need as many as possible. You know, because I will have to test it and perfect it before I try merging them with anything else."

His frown returned at once as he considered her. Bulma tried to keep up a strong poker face, hoping against hope that he wouldn't call her bluff. Finally he said, "Very well then. But somebody had better find me another Namekian!" And he swept out of the room. Dodoria hurried after him.

"What the hell happened here, Jeice?" Zarbon demanded. "Report! Now!"

"Yes, sir!" Jeice snapped and launched into the series of events that led to Piccolos untimely death.

"That was very foolish, girl," Vegeta sneered in Bulma's ear. "You have to know we'll get to you eventually."

Bulma sighed and turned to face him. "Are you alright? Let me see." Her hands moved to his face, tracing the outline of the spot where Jeice had hit him.

Her touch stunned him. Not because of how fearless she was to put her hands on him, but because of how badly the urge struck him to lean into her. It had been so long since he'd seen a woman, and this particular one had the one trait he found impossible to resist…. Bravery.

This realization did nothing to smooth out his resentment towards her though. "I _will_ kill you," he seethed.

She looked him dead in the eye. "I know."

"OH MY GOD!" Chichi screeched and crawled back towards the wall.

Bulma turned to see what the commotion was, but Vegeta went a step further. He dropped down into an unmistakable fighting stance, pulling Bulma behind him as he went. Even as he did it he gave himself a mental scolding for it. He had to fight whatever this attraction towards her was. He could not let himself get wrapped up in feelings he had no right to have.

But when he saw what had Chichi in knots, he straightened and watched awestruck.

Piccolo's upper half was glowing. The tear around his abdomen began to wriggle and elongate. Bones grew and snapped into place. Soon, a whole new skeletal structure had grown from his halved self. Dark green slime coated the bones and churned to form a nervous system, then more to make up his muscles, tendons and ligaments. Finally, a new layer of skin covered his freshly grown lower half.

A split second later, his eyes shot open. Piccolo was alive.

Jeice and Zarbon still stood in the corner discussing the earlier attack on Bulma. They were too wrapped up in their own conversation to notice that Piccolo had just risen from the dead. For the millionth time, Vegeta was outraged that Frieza's men could kill off the entire Saiyan race, yet fail to be able to sense power levels!

"You can regenerate?" Bulma asked, poking her head around Vegeta's arm. Then, in her own fearless manner, she approached the Namek who only moments ago had tried to kill her. She wiped some of the residual slime from his stomach and studied it on the tip of her fingers.

"Chichi," she said slowly, considering all the possibilities. "Looks like you get to keep your arm after all."

"Really? You think you can fix it?!"

Vegeta looked at her arm. What in the name of God was this woman talking about. Chichi's arm was nothing but a useless lump of broken bones now. There was no way she'd ever be able to use it again.

"Yes. Frieza wants me to work with DNA… so that's exactly what I'll do. I'm sure I can build a way to heal you with this," she said, still studying the slime. The formulas were already running through her mind. She could nearly see the end result. "A tank, I think. Some sort of… Rejuvination tank. Once I build it.. it will heal you within hours."

"What?!" Vegeta gaped.

He wasn't the only one. Piccolo was amazed as well. Not because of Bulma's Rejuvination tank idea, but because he knew what it would mean if she managed to succeed. Saiyans grew stronger with every fight. If Vegeta or Kakarot were given enough time to heal, they just might be able to take on Frieza. Especially with the way his men were allowed to use the Saiyan duo as training tools.

* * *

A/N - sooo… we're starting to get there now. Sorry, I know this chapter was super jumpy… but I promise it was all important.


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note—Hey guys, I just want to give a huge thanks to those of you who have been reviewing and favoriting this fic. Also, school is starting to really take off so the updates may be spread out a little more depending on the workload.

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

"Keep moving you rotten monkey!"

Frieza's henchmen prodded Vegeta between his shoulder blades. When the baton made contact with his skin a high electrical current raced through him. His knees buckled and his jaw clamped shut, but he refused to make a sound. He didn't want to give this goon the satisfaction of knowing just how badly that stupid prod hurt his already battered body.

He'd been woken up by this warrior-wanna be and dragged from his cell less than five minutes ago. He'd been too surprised and far too exhausted to fight back at the time, but he could feel himself wake up more and more every time this joker hit him with that damn cattle prod. Fantasies of how it would feel to snap the henchman's neck floated through his mind. If he focused hard enough, he could almost imagine watching the life fade out of his eyes and that manic grin falling from his lips.

"You're gonna get it," the henchman promised. "Frieza's not pleased with you after that little stunt you and the Namek pulled. You didn't think you would get out of that without a punishment, did you?"

No, he hadn't. He stayed up half the night thinking about it. At the time, it seemed the smart thing to do. Fight for the greater good and whatnot—but once he returned to his cell… the very second he looked Kakarot in the eye, he knew he'd made a horrible blunder—because Frieza still had some leverage over the Saiyans, very valuable leverage.

"…don't know what made you think you would get away with it… stupid ape," the henchmen was saying.

"We had Jeice for a guard," Vegeta snapped. "It was a golden opportunity. He's the biggest joke among Frieza's ranks… or so I thought. That was before I met you."

"What did you say?!" The henchman stabbed the prod into Vegeta's back again, holding it in place until the electrical current sent him to the ground. He kept it pressed deep into Vegeta's flesh, watching him twitch and writhe as he said, "I am no joke! I am Burter and I am among Frieza's elite! I could kill you in an instant if I wanted."

_Burter_. Vegeta added the name to the list of people he needed to kill. Still, he was very pleased to have managed to keep his mouth shut during that shock. Not a single whimper would pass his lips. Instead, he got to his feet—albeit a little clumsily—and moved on.

"Ah, welcome Vegeta," Frieza hissed as he was prodded into the tyrants personal quarters. The room was luxurious, even by Frieza's standards. If it hadn't been for the fresh blood stains marring the carpet, it would have been easy to imagine that he'd stepped into an elegant paradise.

Frieza followed his gaze to the biggest of the blood pools. "Zarbon," he explained. "He gave me a bit of trouble last night."

Vegeta cringed. Sure, he had it rough as a prisoner, but he shuddered to think about what Zarbon must go through night after night. He didn't earn the position of Frieza's right hand man from his fighting skills. Then again, it was probably no less than he deserved.

"You surprise me, Vegeta," Frieza droned on, crossing the room to stand in front of him. "Just when I finally thought I had you monkeys under control, you go and do something to piss me off all over again. And what's worse, my dear Neteru tells me that she needs you to stay alive… so I can't even punish you how I want. It's infuriating. I locked myself in here for hours last night trying to rid myself of the anger and disappointment you caused me. Poor Zarbon could hardly stand it." He grinned as if remembering something particularly amusing.

"And then inspiration came to me," he continued. "I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten…"

At this Vegeta froze. He knew where Frieza was going with this, and the very thought of it made his stomach drop.

"I still have your father."

It felt as if millions of shards of ice formed inside of Vegeta's bloodstream. His father… there were no words for the amount of respect Vegeta felt for his father—the king of all Saiyans. How could he have been so foolish!? Bulma may present a problem, but was her life anywhere near as valuable as his father's? No. Definitely not. He wanted to kick himself! He should have waited, planned better. But no… as usual, Prince Vegeta jumped the gun and now Frieza would punish him by using his father!

"I planned on having him brought on board. I planned on killing him slowly… right. Before. Your. Very. Eyes." He gave a wistful sigh, then frowned. "Of course, if I did that then there's no telling how defiant you and that idiot Kakarot would become. So I had to settle for something else."

Vegeta just barely caught Frieza's movement, but he was still much too fast. In a flash, the young tyrant shot five bands of pure ki at him, and each band trapped his limbs—one for each wrist and ankle and another around his neck—so that he was pinned spread eagle against the far wall. The door he'd come in through beeped and swished open, and Burter shoved Kakarot into the room. He fell to the floor in a bloody mass.

"I have to keep your father alive, Vegeta. It's the only way to keep you in line… but this one," he nudged Kakarot with his toe, "He's just a pawn, isn't he? A third-class Saiyan with no considerable talents, isn't that correct?"

Kakarot scowled and tried to push himself off of the ground. Fresh burn marks traveled the length of his arms and back. He must have tried to fight. Foolish man… he'd never be able to take them on… not with so many pre-existing injuries.

Frieza's tail whipped high into the air and crashed down onto the exposed flesh of Kakarot's back. There was an earsplitting CRACK as several of his vertebrates gave way and his legs sprawled out beneath him in sickening angles.

"Still," Frieza continued, "I know it would be upsetting for you to lose him, even if he is of little value as a fighter. He is still a Saiyan, after all, and there are only a precious few of them left. Your warrior race is dwindling right before your eyes."

His tail crashed down onto Kakarot's back for a second time. His limp legs jumped into a more grotesque angle and his skin split where contact had been made, revealing the swollen and torn muscles beneath. Blood ran down his sides and pooled onto the floor… still Kakarot did not scream. He, as Vegeta had done earlier, kept his mouth clamped shut so tightly that his teeth must have cracked. So Frieza struck again, and again, six more times, seven, eight.

"BEING BRAVE?" he bellowed and pummeled him again. "Cry out! I want to hear you suffer! Scream for your prince! Let him see how weak you really are!"

When Kakarot still made no sound, Frieza's temper really began to flare. He wound his tail around Kakarot's neck and lifted his body off of the ground. The blood flowed freely from the open wounds on his back and his legs dangled, but somehow Kakarot managed to hang on to his consciousness long enough to say, "Fuck you," and spit his own blood into the tyrants face.

"Kakarot!" Vegeta gasped.

But Frieza had had enough. His little game wasn't fun anymore. "Watch carefully, Vegeta. If you screw up again your father will suffer this same fate." Then he pressed his hand against Kakarot's abdomen and blew a hole the size of a dinner plate through his middle.

* * *

"That should do it," Bulma stood back to admire her handy work.

"Are you sure that cabinet will be able to conceal it?" Piccolo asked. He had been called to the lab hours ago so that Bulma could take a few more samples. It wasn't an easy process. The only way to secrete some of his rejuvenation liquids was for him to actually rejuvenate. They spend thirty minutes cutting off his fingers and collecting the liquid from their regrowth. He spent the rest of the time helping Bulma with heavy lifting and rearranging. She was able to work much faster that way.

"I think so," she said.

It was the unanimous decision of Bulma, Chichi and Piccolo that Frieza and his men could not know about the rejuvenation tank. If they did they would want to use it for themselves and keep the prisoners weakened. Such a thing would deflate their escape plan and ensure they all remained in this hellhole until the day they died. So, after a little tinkering around, they hollowed out one of the larger storage cabinets and built the tank inside of it. The dimensions did pose a small problem, but Piccolo was able to solve it by using his special beam technique to cut out a portion of the wall. With that done, they just had to slide a second hollowed out cabinet into the adjoining room to box in the whole thing and viola…. The tank was hidden.

Chichi wiped the sweat from her brow. "I highly doubt Frieza and his men would ever want to snoop around the supply room. They don't even know how to pronounce most of this stuff."

"I agree," Bulma said. "Now we just have to test it. Sorry, Chichi, but everything on this ship is nuclear powered and I want to make sure there are no adverse effects before I stick you in there."

"I've dealt with it this long," she said, clutching her shattered arm. It was starting to become discolored—purplish black. That was never a good sign, but on the bright side, the pain was becoming less and less noticeable as the limb lost more and more feeling.

Piccolo smirked at the human duo. He never imagined that it would have come to this—that he and his fellow prisoners would ever come to rely on two of the weakest creatures he'd ever seen. Sure, Chichi may have managed to cut him in half, but that technique was pure surprise. In hand to hand, she wouldn't last a minute. And Bulma… she had no physical power at all… but she more than made up for it in knowledge.

He was just about to compliment them when his senses alerted him. "Someone's coming," he growled.

Within seconds the main door to the med bay slid open. "Bulma!"

"That's Vegeta," she said.

The three of them raced out of the supply room and skidded to a halt when they saw the gruesome sight that awaited them.

Jeice was absolutely shaking with laughter as Vegeta looked frantically around the lab for Bulma. He had Kakarot draped over his should and blood running down the length of his body. But the blood wasn't his. It came from his fellow Saiyan.

"Kakarot!" Chichi gasped and ran to help Vegeta position him onto a nearby gurney. "Oh my God! I can see straight through him! What happened!?"

"Lord Frieza happened," Jeice giggled. "You didn't think he was going to let these two off without so much as wrist slap did you?" He said, gesturing between Vegeta and Piccolo. "You're lucky the Namek survived… otherwise your punishment would have been ten times as bad, Vegeta."

Bulma rushed to Kakarot's side and pressed gauze into his wounds. "I said I needed them alive! He's barely clinging to life like this!"

"No, you said you needed _Vegeta_ alive," Jeice corrected. "You never said a word about his idiot sidekick. But that's beside the point. There's more to Vegeta's punishment and it involves you. He's been ordered to act as your new guard. That way he gets a front row seat as you help Lord Frieza realize his dreams. Don't worry… he knows not to lay on finger on you. Not unless he wants to watch Frieza kill his father as well." He grinned again and spit onto the still form of Kakarot. "I don't know what you think you'll accomplish by bringing him here, Vegeta. He's a goner. Be sure to shove the body out of the airlock. We don't need his rotting carcass stinking up the ship." Then he left, cackling the whole way.

Bulma glared after him for a few seconds, then ripped the gauze away from Kakarot's stomach. "C'mon! We don't have a lot of time. We need to get him in the tank now while he's still alive!"

Chichi scrambled to help lift him, but Vegeta moved much faster and hoisted him as if he were made of paper. "I was hoping you'd tell me it was complete."

"It hasn't been tested," she admitted, "but we don't have that kind of time now."

With deft hands, Chichi and Bulma peeled off his clothes and worked to strap Kakarot in the tank. Then they fussed with his oxygen mask to make sure it was securely in place. With that done, they stepped back, sealed the tank and watched as the green protein mixture oozed up through the grates and began to surround him.

The screen mounted to the inside of the cabinet door glowed to life, displaying a full diagnostic of Kakarot's condition along with a scale model of his body. "His blood pressure is through the roof. The pain must be awful. Four broken ribs," Bulma read, "two that are missing completely—probably disintegrated—missing organs, missing vertebrates, three broken vertebrates, paralysis." Her eyes narrowed as she scrolled down. "Well… it worked for you Piccolo, but I had to change the formula to work for other species as well. All we can do at this point is pray."

"It'll work," Chichi said, pressing her hand against the tank. She'd only known Kakarot for a short amount of time, but it seemed impossible and unfair that someone so strong could be taken away so easily. "It has to work."

* * *

Vegeta wasn't sure this was going to work. Kakarot had been in that tank for hours and he couldn't sense any change in him at all. Still, Bulma insisted that he remain positive. As this was an impossible task for him, Vegeta slumped into a dark corner of the med bay and resigned himself to brooding.

"You should let me take a look at those," Bulma said, appearing from around the corner. She held a small jar of green gel in her hands—the altered protein from Piccolo. "They could get infected." She gestured to the burn marks on his shoulders and neck.

"I thought I had to get in the tank for that stuff to work," he said, eyeing her skeptically.

"Not necessarily." She sat on the floor next to him, sprawling out her skirt as she went. The fabric was frayed and dirty after days of wearing the same clothes, but that came with the territory of being one of Frieza's prisoners. He wasn't sure why, but he had assumed Bulma would receive better treatment than the rest of them. Perhaps since she was so vital to Frieza's mission. "Kakarot has a lot of internal damage. This protein needs to seep into his pores and enter his bloodstream for it to work, but these wounds here," she pressed her fingers near one of the burns from Burter, "these are all topical. I should be able to treat these without the tank."

"I see. You may need more of that goo though." Gingerly, Vegeta began to peel off his shirt. Pieces of the material stuck to the wounds littered across his back, and he cringed before ripping them away.

"Let me help you," Bulma said and positioned herself behind him.

He stilled his movements right away. Perhaps it was the warrior in him, but there was something very unsettling about having someone so close to his back. He felt blinded, he needed to see what she was doing or about to do. The whole thing was possibly the most uncomfortable experience he'd ever been in, and he had been through a lot.

But her touch was contrary to his fears. She was soft and gentle. When she removed his shirt it was with a feather light hand, even in the areas where the fabric had imbedded into his flesh.

"This will be a bit cool," she warned. "I added extracts from the aloe and mint plants found on my planet. There's a whole greenhouse full of useful plants in the back of the lab. I guess some of the former staff at least had a clue as to what they were doing."

"It was probably meant for the crew," Vegeta growled. "Frieza would shit himself if he knew you were using it to help out the prisoners."

"Don't worry. I made a few adjustments. The plants will grow several times faster and harvest much more. He'll never know the difference." Then she scooped a liberal amount of the protein from the jar and slathered it across each of his wounds.

And it was cold! Not uncomfortably so, but enough for him to notice and appreciate the nearly instantaneous relief. Small crackling noises sounded from behind him as his very skin began to react to the slime. He could feel it wriggle and stretch beneath her fingers. Even a thin layer of muscle beneath reacted to her concoction. It wasn't painful at all, just… creepy. "What's happening?"

"The wounds are closing," she said and slid a layer of protein onto one of his shoulder wounds. It was right above a curious symbol he had tattooed over his heart. She furrowed her brow as she studied it. Strange lines, a 'V' shape with an arrow, and an arched line underneath. She could swear she'd seen that symbol before, but couldn't recall from where.

Vegeta watched his wound, ensnared as his skin sprang to life and began to grow. Within seconds the burn was gone. Not so much as a scar remained. After a couple of minutes there were no wounds left at all.

"Amazing," he breathed.

She smiled and tore her attention from his tattoo to look him in the eye. "You'll still need to get in the tank for that arm," she said. "That's the only way to repair the damage to the muscles."

"Fine," he whispered, still enthralled that he'd been healed so quickly. His mind was reeling with excitement and anticipation. With this new development, he would be able to take on Frieza at full strength!

"I know what you're thinking, Vegeta," Bulma frowned. "Piccolo told me all about you guys. About how each fight makes you stronger. I hate to say it but, as strong as I'm sure you are, I don't think you're ready to fight Frieza yet. We have to work out a plan first."

His initial reaction to her words was annoyance. What did this fragile human know about anything? But then reality sunk in. Kakarot was floating in the tank because of his rash decisions. Bulma was right… they needed to think this through. They only had one shot. If they failed, Frieza would kill them all, and probably his father too for good measure.

"They can't know Kakarot is alive," he said. "Frieza believes he's killed him. If he's seen waltzing around the ship without so much as a scratch they'll know you've done something. Jeice will know for sure because he's the one who brought him here with me."

"That's true. I'm sure I can keep him hidden in the lab. The back rooms are like a maze and I doubt any of the crew ever goes back there."

"Yeah," Vegeta agreed. "And it will be useful to have a man on the outside. Someone who can be out of the cells at night."

"You'll have to work on your acting skills as well. Once we heal you completely you'll need to act weaker than you really are. Piccolo says Frieza allows his men to train on you, so you shouldn't show any considerable improvement with them."

"That'll be fine," he said with a grin. "The more time I spend in that tank the better. I'll just keep growing stronger." And then another thought struck him. "What about your friend—Chichi? Won't someone notice that her arm isn't rotting off anymore once she's out of the tank?"

"I don't think so. She's only human after all. No one other than the prisoners pay enough attention to her condition. They don't think she's important enough."

"They would reassess their opinion of her if they'd been cut in half." It was Piccolo coming round the corner. "The tank is beginning to drain… I think Kakarot is almost done."

* * *

Chichi could hardly keep still. The chart on screen said that Kakarot was completely healed, and yet she couldn't sense an increase in his energy at all. He certainly looked better though—at least that giant hole had closed. But she couldn't allow herself to focus on that. If she let herself look at him for too long then she would end up staring at the sheer perfection his body had to offer. And she couldn't help but notice the not-so-subtle differences between Kakarot's anatomy and the average male human's anatomy.

To busy herself, she ran to fetch a towel for him as the tank drained. Then she set to pacing while the whole process completed. After what seemed like an eternity the tank emitted a soft series of beeps and she heard the water lock release.

Internally glad that no one was there to witness her wheeling her feet around like a cartoon, she scrambled to the tank and unlocked the seals with shaky fingers.

At some point, Kakarot's eyes had opened, and he stood there, bold as brass in his nudity, watching the entire, hilarious, scene play out in front of him. When she pulled the door open, he removed his mask and gave her his prize-winning grin. "You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. "When did you wake up?!" she demanded and hurled the towel at him.

He caught it with ease and wrapped it around his waist. "I've been up for a while."

"But your power level… it never raised and inch! If anything it went down! Are you feeling okay? Did something go wrong? Bulma said this thing was running off of the ships nuclear power source. You don't think it weakened you, do you?"

Kakarot chuckled at her rambling. "Don't worry, Chichi. It worked perfectly. I could hear everything you guys were saying out here. I just thought it would be better to lower my energy so that Frieza's scouters didn't pick me up. They're all supposed to think I'm dead, right?"

She frowned, then punched him hard on the shoulder—which seemed to cause her more pain than him. "You couldn't give me a thumbs up or something!? I was worried sick about you! You should have seen how you looked, floating around in that slop all dead and lifeless looking!"

"Aw, you do care," he grinned.

The distance between them grew smaller and smaller as he advanced on her. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening, but she was too disoriented. Even with his lower half covered, he was still a mouthwatering sight. She wished he would put his clothes back on already.

"I'll, um… your clothes are over there… I washed them for you. I'll just… give you some privacy so that you can change."

He grabbed her good arm to hold her in place. "Wait." When she looked up at him, he ran his fingers through her hair. It was a lot smoother than he had imagined. Much smoother than any Saiyan woman's could have been. He had to suppress another grin at the way her eyes widened when he touched her face, allowing his fingers to skim over the planes of her cheeks and the contrasting soft mounds that made up her lips. "I wanted to thank you. What was it you said? That you were worried sick? I wanted to thank you for that."

She stood paralyzed as his head moved downwards, his eyes drifted shut and the firm skin of his lips pressed to hers. For a moment, she was too shocked to do anything, and then it was if all the bones in her body began to melt. She parted her lips for him and allowed him further access—access that he took without hesitation. He was actually a little greedy in the way he kissed, taking everything she had to offer, using his skilled tongue to explore hers. His massive arms wrapped around her body, pulled her closer. There was a slight twinge of discomfort from her broken arm, but the fire from Kakarot was enough to bury the pain… what pain?... was there ever any pain?

"Well… I see you're feeling better."

The two of them sprang apart and looked to the door. Bulma, Piccolo and Vegeta had come back. Piccolo looked confused, probably because his species only had one gender. Bulma looked slightly embarrassed at having walked in on such a thing and Vegeta looked like a proud father.

"Not wasting any time, eh Kakarot?" he laughed. "You'll have to forgive him. You two are the closest species to Saiyan women we've seen in years."

"Oh," Chichi sounded a little dejected. Bulma couldn't blame her. Vegeta made it sound as if the only reason Kakarot kissed her was because of how she looked. He could be such a guy! "Why is that? Where are your women?"

"Killed," Vegeta growled. "When we tried to resist Frieza, he killed all of our women first. He wanted us to suffer, so he murdered them all. That way, we would be unable to reproduce. We would have to watch as our entire race died in the slowest, most painful of ways. That was fifteen years ago."

The mood in the room had suddenly gone from fun and a little risqué to one of doom.

"We didn't stay down long though, did we Vegeta," Kakarot said. Bulma was happy to see that he went back to Chichi and slid his arm around her waist. Maybe that was his way of reassuring her. "His actions only pissed us off more, so we attacked him. The battle was huge. But in the end, we weren't enough. Frieza slaughtered our army and left only a handful of us alive. We're all that's left… us and the king for sure. Maybe a handful of others that were off the planet for assignment if we're lucky."

"Why did they have to be off the planet?" Bulma asked. "Maybe they were able to hide. Maybe even some of the women—"

"That wouldn't matter," Vegeta said. "After we were brought on board, Frieza destroyed our planet. There's nothing left."

Chichi looked from Kakarot to Vegeta and then back again. "But… where is your king? I've spent a lot of time in those cells and I've never seen another Saiyan. Just you two."

"Frieza took him as insurance," Kakarot said. "He took him to his home base where he's locked up in conditions that make this place look like an oasis. Frieza uses him to ensure that Vegeta and I stay in line and agree to whatever sadistic experiments he has lined up for us."

"But," she continued, "I'm sure your king would rather see you fight than live as a slave."

Vegeta smirked. "Yes. He would. But I can't bring myself to be the cause of his death. I just can't…. because… he's my father."

It was a sickening tale… to hear that someone could be so evil. And poor Vegeta. He was their prince. "Don't worry," Bulma said, grabbing one of his hands with both of her own. "We're going to destroy Frieza. We're going to make him regret the day he ever stepped foot on your planet."


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**—Hey guys. Here is the newest update. It hasn't been edited very much because I was trapped at a co-worker's house during the snow/ice fiasco here in Alabama, so please forgive any typos… but I know it's been a while so I wanted to go ahead and post. **ALSO—I said I would warn you whenever things started to get a little citrusy, so consider this your warning. **

CHAPTER SIX

Tia flipped through the minds of the crew, keeping an eye out for any information that would come in useful to her and the rest of the captives. There wasn't a lot going on anymore. Tien had asked her to be on the lookout ever since they felt Kakarot's power signal fade three days ago. She crept into Frieza's mind and relayed the whole, awful tale to him, confirming their fears—that one of their greatest fighters was now out of the picture. He had been a great man, not too verbose and certainly leaning heavy on the intimidating side, but he'd always been kind to her. Every other day, when the guards would pull him out of his cell to go into the training ring, he'd put half of his water ration in front of her cell. He'd dehydrate himself to make sure a child like her had enough.

_Anything new?_ Tien asked. He knew not to speak out loud. Their cells were under constant watch, if not from live guards then by the many camera's that were mounted from the ceiling. He didn't have telepathic abilities, but Tia was always listening for his thoughts to come through.

His cell was opposite of hers and when she looked up at him to speak, he did his usual involuntary flinch. It broke her heart to know he couldn't stand to look at her. Not out of hate or disgust… but because it pained him to do so. Because he had loved her father like a brother—Chiaotzu. And it was because of Tia that Frieza had eliminated both Chiaotzu and her mother.

_Nothing so far. Frieza's army is in the training ring, Zarbon is overseeing them. Jeice and Burter are stealing food from the mess decks, Dodoria is looking at dirty pictures and Frieza is switching back and forth between deciding which world to conquer next and daydreaming about having the ability to spacewalk. _

They both shot fleeting looks towards the Yardrat. He was crouched in his favorite corner, as usual, trying not to notice the constant volts that shot through him from his collar. That collar was an awful thing. If he tried to use his instant transmission the collar would send a signal straight to Frieza, and with the push of a button, the Yardrats home planet would be destroyed—all of his friends and family, everything he ever cared about… all of it… gone. And just in case he decided their loss would be for the greater good, the collar pumped his body full of electricity, throwing off his abilities and interfering with his signal. He couldn't spacewalk even if he wanted too.

Just then, the main door slid open and Vegeta walked in. The look on his face was not one they expected to see. They imagined they would see him defeated and broken. They thought the loss of Kakarot would destroy his pride and that he would cave under the weight of his own despair… but that was not the case. He looked… happy. Elated, even. What's more, he was alone… no guards. Tia had told the others of Vegeta's latest assignment to guard the new scientist…. Is this what he was so smug about? Was he actually enjoying his new role?

He stopped at Tia's cell and slid a badge to release the locks. He never had a badge before. It must have come with his new position. "You're coming with me to the lab," he said with a grin.

"Like hell she is!" Tien snapped and pounded his fist against the glass. Even though he couldn't bear to look at her, with her petite size and stark white skin, he'd always been very protective of Tia. She came from Chiaotzu, and that alone made her worth protecting. "What the hell is going on out there, Vegeta?! What's happened? Did you switch sides?!"

He kept his grin in place when he said, "I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," but Tien didn't miss the way he flashed a glance to Tia, then to one of the mounted camera's overhead. Whatever was going on, he couldn't relay the message out loud… not here. He needed Tia to be able to communicate.

Still, whatever game they were playing was most likely a dangerous one, and appearances needed to be upheld. "Fuck you, Vegeta!" Tien screamed after his retreating form. "You're nothing but a traitor!"

* * *

Tia sat dumbfounded in the back of the lab. When she first trailed in after Vegeta, it all looked very much the same as it always had—intimidating, horrifying… only now that Bulma had taken over, all the gadgets looked sparkly and new and that much more lethal. The back of the lab, however, was a completely different story. The supply room had been altered drastically into a kitchenette. The greenhouse was overflowing with lush fruit and vegetables and tiny robots would speed in to harvest them and then speed back out. Flipping through Bulma's mind, she found the reason—Frieza couldn't know of all of the extra food. He couldn't know because he would be furious at how Bulma and Chichi were feeding the food to the prisoners instead of his men. Another change was the eye wash station. Before, it had just been a flimsy sprinkler in a deep sink… now it had been morphed into a full scale bathroom so that they could shower and even wash their clothes.

_How did you manage to do all of this?_ Tia aksed, turning her orb-like eyes to Bulma.

"I'm a lot smarter than I let on," she said with a wink. "And I was able to build it all a lot faster than I would have ever thought possible with Vegeta's help. He made installation a snap." She studied Tia a moment longer and cast a doubtful look back to Chichi—who, Tia noticed, had regained full functionality of her once shattered arm. There wasn't even a scratch to be seen as the kind, raven haired woman stood stirring a pot of stew over the nice new stove. "Not to sound rude or anything," Bulma began, "but… how do you eat? Chichi made some excellent vegetable stew but… well… you don't have a mouth."

If she could have laughed, Tia would have. Instead, she held up her tiny white hands so that Bulma could get a closer look at her fingers. Thousands of tiny suckers were littered across the pad of each digit. _I don't eat. My mother's species was similar to the Nameks in the fact that we only consume water. They drink it orally whereas I absorb it through these suckers. _

"Huh… water it is then," Bulma smiled. She turned to one of the cabinets and pulled down a large glass, filled it with crystal clear water and placed it in front of Tia. The little girl nearly knocked the glass over as she plunged her fingers into it. It had been a long time since the water she was served was so clean. The guards usually found the nastiest, grimiest, bacteria infested water they could to serve the prisoners. "I hope you can understand, but, we're having to keep up appearances, so I'll need to take a few blood samples. Afterwards you can take a shower if you'd like. Chichi will help wash your clothes."

_Thank you… I've never known one of Frieza's employees to show kindness. _

"I'm not his employee. I'm a prisoner, just like you. But like I said, I'm smarter than I let on." She paused and looked back to Vegeta, who had perched himself onto the countertop so he could look into the stew Chichi was cooking. It did smell incredible and looked a lot better than the mucus looking stuff the guards served. He noticed Bulma's inquiring look and gave a slight nod. She took a deep breath and then turned back to Tia. "We're going to need your help, Tia. We can't communicate with the prisoners out loud, not while I'm stuck up here all the time and certainly not with all those cameras on them. I need a way to let them know information and vice versa. Your telepathy… can you transmit to more the one person at a time?"

_Yes_, Tia said. Vegeta and Chichi smiled as they too received the message.

"And you can also sort through the thoughts of others?"

_Yes._

"Good. I've seen enough cheesy prison movies on Earth to know that some prisoners will snitch to the warden. Do you think there is anyone untrustworthy in the cells?"

Tia thought for a moment. _I don't usually listen in on the prisoners, but if you would like, I will start. And if anyone seems shady, I'll let you know._

"Thank you, Tia. That would be a great help."

_I'll help as much as I can…. For Kakarot. We all know what happened. _A bright blue tear streaked down her cheek._ He was a good man._

Bulma stared, then, to Tia's surprise, let out a small laugh. "You really _don't_ listen in on the prisoners do you? If you did, you'd know that there's nothing to cry about. Come on out Kakarot."

One of the side doors opened, and to Tia's immense surprise, Kakarot walked out, unscathed. In fact, he looked healthier than she'd ever seen him.

_Kakarot_! This time she really did knock her glass over as she jerked her hand from the glass too quickly and ran into his outstretched arms.

"What's the matter, munchkin? You look like you've seen a ghost," Kakarot laughed.

_But… how? I saw Freiza's thoughts. I saw him kill you._ She pressed her chubby little hands against his abdomen, feeling feverishly for the hole she knew was once there.

"Don't worry. I'm all patched up. We all are." He gestured around the room.

Even though it broke her own moral code to do it, Tia searched through Kakarot's mind. She saw it all playing out in reverse. Vegeta's haughty smirk after stepping out of a tank that had been filled with green liquid. Chichi had been in it too… and Kakarot. She watched the hole in his middle go from closed to open, saw how Bulma and Chichi had strapped him into the tank, how Vegeta had come in with his comrade thrown over his shoulder and a haunting desperate look in his eye as he spoke to Bulma.

_A healing tank_? She asked.

Kakarot nodded. "That's right. We're going to put all of the prisoners in there who need it. We have to have everyone at full strength to pull this off."

* * *

Throughout the rest of the day, the prisoners were brought up to the lab one by one. Tia had told them all en mass of Bulma's desires to help them. But she deliberately kept some of the prisoners in the dark. It wasn't that she found them untrustworthy, it was just that she couldn't get a good enough handle on them to make that decision. So whenever they were brought to the lab, Kakarot remained hidden. Bulma still allowed them the shower and the hot meal, but their plans were kept a secret.

Tien and Piccolo did some time in the tank. Once their powers were brought back up to full, Vegeta reminded them to keep it low key. The last thing they needed was for the crew to realize the prisoners were going into the lab weakened and coming out much stronger.

Finally, it was the Yardrat's turn.

"Hello," Bulma greeted as he came in behind Vegeta.

The Yardrat studied her welcoming smile, but said nothing.

Odd, Bulma thought, she could have sworn that Tia said he was a trustworthy guy. Then again, just because you're trustworthy doesn't necessarily mean that you're friendly.

"Has Tia… um.. spoken to you?"

He gave a small nod and the movement sent a flurry of shocks out of the collar. Bulma watched, heartbroken, as his little body jerked violently. It was no wonder he held so much sadness in his eyes, like a beaten dog.

"Isn't there a way to get that thing off of him?" Chichi asked, massaging her own throat with her fingers.

"Maybe," Bulma said, drawing closer to inspect the harsh metal. It had hundreds of claws hooked into the flesh of his neck. "It would probably cause him more pain than relief though. I'd bet that at least twenty of these hooks run deep too. If I slipped up, I could cut a main artery."

"But we could just put him in the tank then, couldn't we?" Chichi asked, hopeful. "I mean, if it cured Kakarot then a sliced artery would be nothing."

"It needs to stay on," Vegeta said. The two girls jumped at the dominance in his voice. "This is one of the most watched prisoners on the ship. If you take off that collar then we'll have blown our cover. I'm sorry, Space Walker, but it has to stay on."

He gave another short nod of his bulbous head. He seemed to understand, but the deflated, hopeless look in his eyes was something Bulma imagined she would see again in her nightmares.

"Well… we can at least feed you, and let you take a nice hot shower. But first," she held up a syringe with an apologetic grimace. "Frieza needs to think I'm working on figuring out your DNA."

The Yardrat held out his arm without question. Despite his broken state, he seemed completely at ease that Bulma would never break the code to his instant transmission. His confidence in the matter gave her quite a charge. For a moment she even thought about boasting about her skills, but then again, she didn't dare do such a thing. She was treading on dangerous ground. In a matter of days after being taken, she found herself needing to keep both the crew and her fellow prisoners happy. The stakes were high and time was limited. Hadn't Frieza only given her a month to figure all of this out? That meant that they would need to be prepared for one epic battle in less than thirty days. Because that's when the tyrant was going to start snooping around.

She could probably prolong their timeframe if she could make a little headway on the Space Walker's abilities, but she didn't want to reveal too much. She would hate to give Frieza the information he needed to capture such a dangerous ability for himself.

Her throat began to constrict in on itself. What was she thinking? Playing the hero?! All of this was probably just going to get them all killed. Then again, even if she succeeded Frieza would more than likely kill them. If only she knew for sure, beyond the shadow of doubt, that there was someone on board with the ability to finish off Frieza buried deep within them. Vegeta made it sound like he and Kakarot could do it, but they still had such a long way to go to achieve the strength for it. How long would something like that take?

* * *

"A super Saiyan?" Chichi asked.

Kakarot had taken to hanging around the kitchen while she cleaned up. He hadn't kissed her anymore. In fact he barely touched her at all, but he had become a little more sociable. So she felt no need to keep herself from asking the question that had been burning into her mind from the moment the two Saiyans declared that they would defeat Frieza- _How_?

"Yeah. It's a legendary status among our people. Only a few have ever achieved it, and only once every five thousand years or so."

"Then how do you both expect to achieve it now?"

He shrugged, settling himself into one of the nearby chairs. "I don't think I'll be able to… not while I'm having to hide out like this, but Vegeta has a good chance. With the tank that Bulma built and the frequency in which Frieza's men try to pummel him. We get stronger with every fight so we're thinking it's just a matter of time."

"It's hard to imagine," she said, drying off another dish. "You're both so strong already. Then again, I never imagined a creature as strong as Frieza would ever exist either."

"Yeah, the universe is a scary place."

With all the dishes done, Chichi drained the water and wiped down the sink. Then she stacked all the plates together and moved to put them in the cabinets. The only problem was that when Kakarot and Vegeta helped Bulma mount the cabinets, they held them steady at their heights. And they both towered over her.

Kakarot chuckled as Chichi stretched and struggled to put the plates away.

"Don't laugh at me," she growled. "What? Haven't you ever seen short girl problems before?"

"I just think it's hilarious that you can cut a man in half and yet you can't even put away a few dishes."

"Keep up your trash talking and I'll cut _you_ in half," she threatened, standing on her tip toes to slide the plates in place.

"What?" he said, mock hurt coloring his tone. "What ever happened to you being worried sick about me?"

"I'll tell you what happened…. You started speaking again," she said and threw a fake punch towards his head.

He caught her fist easily and, with no warning at all, pulled her down so that she straddled his lap. She blushed at the compromising position, especially since the only way she could sit like this comfortably was for her skirt to ride up her thighs—something that Kakarot's sharp eyes zeroed in on immediately, changing their playful mood into one of fiery want.

His hand released hers, only to wrap tightly around her back, smashing their torsos together as his lips were suddenly on hers, prying them open, greedily kissing her for the second time. But his hands were restless. They roamed the length of her spine once, twice, three times before fanning out to other areas. One slid up her shirt, teasing the soft skin of her stomach while the other made the dangerous trip up her thigh.

When she felt two of his fingers hook inside her panties she pulled back, breaking their kiss. "Wait… wait…" she panted.

His hands stilled, but she could see the struggle such a thing was putting him through. "What's wrong?" he asked, trailing his lips across hers. The texture of his mouth sent chills down her spine… they were quite possibly the softest part of his body, and yet still firm.

Her mind was beginning to grow foggy again… she had to say this now or else she would regret it later. "I'm… I'm not… a Saiyan. I'm not a Saiyan, Kakarot. No matter how much I look like one… I'm not…"

He smirked and brought his lips to her throat, suckling and kissing the column of her neck. "What's your point?"

What _was_ her point? Wasn't she supposed to have one of those? She could hardly remember anything with the way his tongue roamed so freely over her skin. "I… that's what you want isn't it? Isn't that what Vegeta said. About why you kissed me the other day… because, I look…. Like a Saiyan?"

He gave an exasperated sigh and cupped her face in both of his hands. "Listen to me, Chichi. I kissed you because I wanted to. I wanted to kiss you from the moment I realized how capable you are…. When you cut Piccolo in half. It has nothing to do with what you do or do not look like."

And then his hands were at it again, moving all the way down her back, inside the band of her skirt and panties and cupping her bottom to haul her further into his arms. She wasn't expecting his tail to wrap around her waist the way it did, but after a moment's pause, she thought it seemed the natural thing for it to do.

"But…" she suppressed a groan as his tongue set to work below her ear again. One of his hands roamed back up her torso and slid under her bra to torture her breasts. The way the rough and battered skin of his fingers tugged and twisted her sensitive nubs shocked her. She knew from Kakarot's kiss that he was used to taking what he wanted from a woman, but it was still hard to imagine that he could be so bold. They were practically strangers. But, oh, how her body responded to him. "But, you haven't touched me since…"

"I'm touching you now," he pointed out.

She could feel him growing between her thighs. "You know what I mean," she said, bracing one hand against his chest to push away.

He held her in place but reluctantly stopped his assault on her neck. "I didn't touch you again because you looked too put off. Now that I know it was because of something Vegeta said, I've got it in mind to thump him one," he growled.

Now it was Chichi who laughed. It was suddenly so apparent how frustrated living in the cells had made him. If she had been back on Earth, she would bask in this situation and tease Kakarot to the breaking point before she consented to having sex with him, but that seemed extremely cruel now. And then she was struck by another thought…. That this moment, right now, could be the last times she ever got to feel a man's touch.

Her eyes swelled with tears when she asked, "Do you really think we can do this? Do you believe we can defeat Frieza?"

He heaved another sigh—not out of frustration, but out of concern. "I'm not sure. But I know we have to try."

She nodded. He was right, of course.

"Jeice will be coming soon," he said. "It's almost time for you all to go back to the cells."

She glanced back at the clock Bulma had installed into the stove. He was right again. She leaned in and planted one last lingering kiss onto his lips before disentangling herself from his grasp. The look on his face was priceless as he stared down at the straining bulge beneath his armor, like a child who'd just been told the truth about Christmas. It broke her heart.

They had right at ten minutes before Jeice would arrive. It wasn't very much time, but she could at least make him a little more comfortable.

Kakarot's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when she dropped to her knees in front of him and tugged at his pants. If she hadn't been working with a time limit she would have stopped to laugh at him. As it was, she pulled his manhood into her mouth as soon as it sprang free from his armor.


End file.
